<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Laughing Matter by Pamela Rose (pamela_rose)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25644838">Laughing Matter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamela_rose/pseuds/Pamela%20Rose'>Pamela Rose (pamela_rose)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>due Trek [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>due South</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Episode: s01e20-21 Victoria's Secret, M/M, Pre-Slash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:06:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25644838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamela_rose/pseuds/Pamela%20Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you make a Canadian laugh? Sometimes you can't.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benton Fraser &amp; Ray Vecchio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>due Trek [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864651</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Laughing Matter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"It's funny, Fraser. It's hilarious. You'll love it." He shoved the tape in the VCR and pressed play.</p><p>Fraser settled back gingerly on the Vecchio couch. It was wide and broad and tended to swallow unwary sitters. Nor did it encourage good posture. After removing several pillows, he felt a wee more secure.</p><p>The rest of the Vecchio clan had relocated themselves to New York for the wedding of one of the innumerable Italian cousins, so Ray had the big house to himself for a whole week. Despite Ray's outward glee at his freedom, Fraser sensed the emptiness of the house had bothered him. Therefore, as a friend, he felt it was his duty to agree to sharing the evening together, although he had his doubts whether he could be good company. Even Dief, who was patient with most of his moods, had kept his distance since he had been released from the hospital.</p><p>But Ray needed people around him and it seemed the least he could do to fill that need. Fraser, the ultimate and forever loner, could still empathize with the desire while not sharing it. It must be difficult to adapt to loneliness when one was accustomed to clamor, uproar and loving companionship. Fraser had little experience of any and it had taken him a lifetime to accept being alone. Even now he had occasional relapses into maudlin self-pity. Like now. Oh, yes, like now.</p><p>Fraser shut his eyes and saw Victoria. The pain was exquisite, almost voluptuous. Oddly enough there didn't seem that much dissimilarity between the most extremes of sensation. The agony of emotional pain or the delight of physical pleasure, neither were familiar enough for him to brush off and move on.</p><p>"By the way," Ray interrupted his thoughts, "you didn't say why Dief didn't come with you."</p><p>"Ah. He's spending the evening with Lucy. He's been spending a great deal of time with her lately." He looked down at the pillow he was clutching in his lap. "I don't think he's forgiven me."</p><p>"Forgiven you? For what?" When Fraser didn't answer, Ray worked it out for himself. "Oh, for him getting shot, you mean? Don't be ridiculous, Fraser. He's a wolf. He doesn't understand the connection between you and Vict— between what happened to him and you."</p><p>"I'm not sure what he feels. He won't talk to me about it." He still couldn't look up, but he was watching Ray from the corner of his eye; could feel Ray's gaze on him, Ray's absolute stillness. If Ray wanted to say anything, this was the best opening he could give him.</p><p>"Okay, he's a wolf, but he's not a stupid wolf, okay? He knows it wasn't your fault."</p><p>Fraser closed his eyes. But it was his fault. And all three of them knew it. At least Diefenbaker was honest enough to let his resentment out.</p><p>"I can't believe you never saw <em>The Three Stooges</em>," Ray was saying as he pressed the remote button to ripple through the opening credits. His voice was just a little too manic, the enthusiasm too forced, changing the subject and the emotional tension with an awkward laugh.</p><p>"We didn't have a television set until I was fifteen."</p><p>"No kidding."</p><p>"And my grandmother favored <em>Masterpiece Theatre</em> and <em>National Geographic Specials</em>."</p><p>"Big surprise."</p><p>"Actually, Ray, the programs were quite entertaining—"</p><p>"No, Fraser, <em>this</em> is entertainment!"</p><p>For the next half hour Fraser watched with increasing puzzlement as three inept and obviously mentally handicapped individuals knocked each other over, slapped each other in the head with 2x4s and poked fingers in eyes. During the mean-spirited mayhem, Ray chuckled and hooted and gave the appearance of having a wonderful time. But he kept shooting looks at his impassive companion.</p><p>Finally, Ray shut off the TV and faced Fraser. "You're telling me you didn't think this was funny?"</p><p>"It's not that I don't understand the concept of slapstick, Ray. I have seen Buster Keaton—"</p><p>"You're not even trying," Ray interrupted impatiently. "You don't <em>want</em> to feel better, do you?"</p><p>"I feel fine, Ray."</p><p>"Yeah, sure. Okay, how about some jokes. What do you call a man with no arms and no legs hanging on a wall?"</p><p>"Pardon me?"</p><p>"Art. What do you call the same man in a swimming pool?"</p><p>"I don't—"</p><p>"Bob. How about a man with no arms and no legs in a pile of leaves?"</p><p>"Ray—"</p><p>"Russell. Had enough? You willing to laugh yet or do I have to shoot you again?"</p><p>He could see how frustrated Ray was becoming, but he wasn't sure exactly what he really wanted. "You obviously want me to laugh, Ray, but I have no idea why it's so important to you."</p><p>"Because you have to let it out, Benny. All that stuff inside you is just festering there. It's not healing like it should."</p><p>Fraser's jaw clenched. "I thank you for your concern, but I hardly think laughing at something of such obviously low—"</p><p>"What do you call a man whose heart has been ripped out and stomped on?"</p><p>Fraser just stared at him, wondering if Ray hated him now. Was this his choice of revenge?</p><p>"Come on, Benny, even you can figure that one out. You can <em>relate</em>."</p><p><em>No, Ray couldn't be so cruel.</em> "Very well, Ray, if you insist, what do you call him?"</p><p>"Fraser. Except his best friend calls him Benny."</p><p>That hurt worse than anything; the pain in his gut twisted and grew. "Are you still my best friend, Ray?"</p><p>"If l wasn't would I have sat through the Three Stooges? I <em>hate</em> the fuckin' Three Stooges."</p><p>Fraser clutched the pillow tighter, holding himself in, keeping himself intact instead of tearing open and spilling all over the Vecchio's parlor rug—not unlike the joke Ray had just told. And Ray thought his pain was funny.</p><p>Then, meeting the sad, green eyes, Fraser knew that wasn't true. Ray was trying to help, as always.</p><p>Ray sighed heavily. "I know you don't like black humor, Benny. I've never heard you laugh at jokes like that. You're too damn nice to laugh at handicapped jokes, or AIDS jokes, or dead baby jokes. But it's you that's hurting now and black humor is probably the only thing that can shake you out of it. If you can't cry, you gotta laugh, man."</p><p>That nearly made him laugh. <em>He thinks I can't cry. Oh, Ray, if you only knew.</em></p><p>"I appreciate your concern, Ray, but sometimes a person just needs to hurt. I need to hurt now.”</p><p>"No, I don't buy it. Hurt is a symptom of damage; it's a warning, not a cure. The pain gets better as you heal, not worse. It's been over six weeks, Fraser. Can you honestly tell me it's getting better? Now it sounds like you don't even want it to, and that's pissing me off."</p><p>Fraser was beginning to get irritated himself. Ray was always going on about how he wasn't human, that he wouldn't let himself feel, and now that he was feeling—feeling so much it was consuming him—Ray Vecchio didn't approve. Perhaps he found it distasteful.</p><p>"Oh, so only <em>you</em> know what is appropriate for me to feel? Forgive me for not checking with you first—"</p><p>"Sarcasm from Benton Fraser. Maybe we are making progress."</p><p>Fraser shut his mouth tightly, refusing to be baited.</p><p>Ray continued, determined, "Maybe I should've tried the blues instead. A little B.B. King, some Robert Johnson or Muddy Waters. The point is, you gotta let it out. Stick your finger down your throat, throw it up. I don't care, anything. But you're turning into stone and I can't just stand by and watch you solidify."</p><p>"I . . ." Fraser shook his head, then took a deep breath. "It's not that bad, Ray. I'm handling it. I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable. Perhaps I should go."</p><p>"Yeah, perhaps you should!" Ray snapped.</p><p>Fraser started to get up, but couldn't find his legs, couldn't find the will. He was going to lose Ray now, and even though he had been expecting it, he was just now beginning to realize what that meant. Victoria had been a dream; a ten-year delirium; a blizzard that had blinded him, froze him until he mistook the sensation for heat. Ray was warm and real. And without that reality, what would he have left?</p><p>Although Fraser had hardly moved a muscle, Ray still jumped to stop him. "No you don't. You're not going anywhere. Damn, Benny, you just can't let her keep chewing you up like this. She's not worth it!"</p><p>Fraser's jaw tightened as he experienced a searing flush of anger. What did Ray know about it? How could he judge Victoria? As quickly as it came, the anger went faster, draining out of him and leaving him even more depressed. Ray was in the perfect position to judge—not only Victoria, but himself as well. In spite of what he said in the hospital, Ray hadn't forgiven him, nor should he. This wasn't about Victoria at all, but it was <em>because</em> of her. He had never been able to make Ray understand; but maybe it was because he had never tried. It was time to try.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Ray. I need you to ... understand. I don't know how much sense this will make, but—"</p><p>When Fraser broke off, Ray urged him gently, "I'm listening, Benny. Tell me."</p><p>Ray deserved to know, wanted to know. Fraser began again, hesitantly, "Victoria is like a cliff I'm clinging to by my fingertips. I don't have the strength to climb up and walk away. Letting go seems the easiest thing in the world; the thought of just falling into the pit is seductive. There would be no more pain, but there would be nothing else either. It's too final. Fatal. So I just hold on, even though it hurts. It hurts so much. But I can still feel. Can you understand at all, Ray?"</p><p>Ray's green eyes were wide, serious, even wounded as he took in what his friend was saying. After a long moment, he stood and moved in front of Fraser, looking down at him with an indecipherable expression.</p><p>"I can't believe you're overlooking an obvious option, Benny."</p><p>The blue eyes regarded him hopelessly.</p><p>"What if somebody offers you a hand up? Someone strong enough to get you away from that bad news cliff?"</p><p>Fraser stared up at him, at the hand Ray stretched out to him.</p><p>Fraser took the hand, gripping it tightly, feeling its heat and strength, and Ray pulled him up to a standing position.</p><p>They stood there, close together, eye to eye, soaking in the other's feelings, trying to read the racing emotions.</p><p>Ray leaned closer, "Benny—"</p><p>The front door opened and a voice called out cheerfully, "Raimondo, filio! Are you home?"</p><p>They jumped apart guiltily, although they were obviously doing nothing to feel guilty about.</p><p>"Yeah, Ma, in here. What are you doing home?"</p><p>"Lucia called off the wedding." Ma Vecchio came in with an armful of packages, dropped them to kiss her son and smile at the Mountie.</p><p>Tony came in right behind her, also burdened with luggage and paper bags. "Yeah, Lorenzo got arrested the day before the wedding. Money laundering. Where do you want these, Ma?"</p><p>"Shut up, you blabbermouth," Francesca shouted, "and be careful with those." She grabbed one of the bags. "That's the mirror I bought at Macy's."</p><p>"Whaddaya mean, blabbermouth? Is it some big secret or somethin'?"</p><p>She threw a glance at Fraser. "We don't want Benton thinking our family is affiliated with undesirable types."</p><p>"She didn't marry him, did she?" Tony protested.</p><p>Amidst the chaos, Fraser managed to grab his hat and inch toward the door. The house was full and noisy again; Ray was no longer alone—not that he ever had been really. "Well, I'll be on my way. I'm sure you have a lot of family news to catch up on—"</p><p>"Benton, no, you stay for dinner," Mrs. Vecchio said. "Maria, Franny, go put on some sauce—"</p><p>"Thank you kindly, but I couldn't impose. You must be exhausted from your trip. Ray, perhaps I'll see you tomorrow—"</p><p>"No, I'll drive you home."</p><p>"That really isn't necessary."</p><p>"Yes, it is." Ray's eyes held his, brooking no argument.</p><p>They didn't speak as Ray drove him home, but the tension in the Riviera was a heavy carryover from the emotion revealed right before the family's return.</p><p>Neither of them could think of a way to either dispel it or even refer to it. The feeling hadn't really been defined yet, let alone understood. It just was. And it didn't seem like it was going to go away any time soon.</p><p>The second the car pulled up at the curb, Fraser opened the door and almost jumped out, eager to find a calmer place. "Thank you kindly, Ray," he called out and ran quickly up the steps without looking back.</p><p>Inside the apartment, he leaned back against the closed door, breathing deeply, puzzling at why his chest felt both heavier and lighter. In fact, the feeling was swirling, one over the other, making him dizzy and unsteady.</p><p>Diefenbaker whoofed a greeting from under the window but didn't bother to get up. Still sulking obviously.</p><p>"Did you enjoy yourself at Lucy's? I imagine she stuffed you full of cupcakes or something equally disgusting. No, don't deny it. I recognize that self-satisfied smirk." He pushed himself from the door, forcing himself to behave normally. Diefenbaker had very astute eyes. God knows what he would think of him if he stood there clutching his heart like some lovesick maiden.</p><p><em>Lovesick</em>?</p><p>He hung up his hat and began unbuttoning his tunic. He poured a glass of water and downed it in three gulps, then wiped his mouth, wondering why his hand was shaking a little.</p><p>Dief gave a short, confused bark.</p><p>"I'm perfectly fine. Stop fussing." He noticed that Dief had stood and was looking out the window, paws propped on the windowsill.</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>Dief looked back at him, expression impatient, as if Fraser was beyond hope. Curious, Fraser went to the window.</p><p>
  <em>Oh dear.</em>
</p><p>The Riviera was still outside at the curb, engine and lights off. Ray was just sitting there.</p><p>Now what? His heart was pounding triple time and the swirling sensation had moved to the pit of his stomach.</p><p>The wolf looked up at him accusingly.</p><p>"No, I didn't ask him up. And it's none of your business."</p><p>Dief s neck fur ruffled a little.</p><p>"I do not require a lecture from you on courtesy, thank you very much."</p><p>The wolf dropped from the window ledge and padded away in disgust. He went to the door and scratched at it.</p><p>"No, you are not going down there."</p><p>Dief growled disapprovingly. "No, I am not going down there either. Ray knows his way up here if he wants to—"</p><p>The wolf howled.</p><p>"That's enough, Diefenbaker! You are not the boss of me—" There was a quick rap at the door.</p><p>He froze.</p><p>"Fraser? Come on, open up!"</p><p>Dief tilted his head, the blue eyes frosty, as if to say, "Now what, smarty pants?"</p><p>"Just a minute, Ray." He buttoned his tunic hastily, needing decorum and dignity. He shook his finger at the wolf and whispered, "You just sit there and be quiet. Not a word."</p><p>He opened the door and stepped back. "Is anything wrong, Ray? Won't your car start or—"</p><p>"No, of course it will. Don't insult my car, Fraser."</p><p>"I didn't mean—"</p><p>"Forget it." Ray was nervous, too. He glanced around the room as if searching for something to say. After an uncomfortable pause, they both spoke at once.</p><p>"I'm sorry I didn't ask you up—"</p><p>"I meant to ask you—"</p><p>"Excuse me—"</p><p>"No, you first."</p><p>Their eyes met, then darted away.</p><p>"Uh ... would you like some ... uh ... " Fraser made a mental survey of his icebox and offered lamely, "water?"</p><p>"That's real tempting, Benny, but I'll pass." Ray looked down at his feet as if fascinated by his Gucchi loafers.</p><p>Fraser was willing to silently admire them as well.</p><p>"What I meant to ask you," Ray said finally, too loudly, "was whether you could get off work for a couple of weeks. Maybe next week?"</p><p>"A vacation, you mean?"</p><p>"Yeah, a vacation."</p><p>"Well, officially, I'm still on sick leave."</p><p>"Oh, well, so am I. But, I figured maybe, we could ... "</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"I promised to help you fix your dad's cabin. Might as well do it now."</p><p>"You'd use your vacation for that?"</p><p>"Well, I did promise, and you've got that new power saw and all."</p><p>"I meant to talk to you about that, Ray, but at the time it didn't seem, well, polite to bring it up."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"No power."</p><p>"You mean—"</p><p>"No electricity in the cabin."</p><p>"Oh. Right." Ray made a face. "Pretty stupid of me, huh?"</p><p>"It was a very fine gift, Ray," Fraser hastened to add. "I'll cherish it."</p><p>"Thanks. I guess I wasn't thinking." He shrugged. "So we'll do it the old fashioned way, right? Thunk, thunk.”</p><p>"Thunk?"</p><p>"Or is it chop, chop, or chump chump? You the one big with the onomatopeas."</p><p>"Oh, oh, yes, I see. It's a lot of work, Ray."</p><p>"Don't you want to?"</p><p>Their eyes met fully for the first time since the Vecchio's living room. The feeling was just as intense and electric as it had been then. <em>Maybe we can just hook the power saw up to you, Ray Vecchio</em>, Fraser thought breathlessly.</p><p>"Yes, very much," he answered finally, although he'd kind of lost track of exactly what he was agreeing to.</p><p>"Yeah, maybe I do, too. Very much. I mean, yeah, whatever, it sounds great." Ray seemed a tad unclear on the original question as well.</p><p>Now the question seemed to be how long they could go on standing there staring into each other's eyes. For the moment they were strangely content doing only that.</p><p><em>I can't laugh for him</em>, Fraser thought, <em>I can't cry in front of him. And if l kissed him now would he consider that a sufficient release of my emotions or just think me totally mad?</em></p><p>A short, inquiring bark from Dief released them from the spell.</p><p>"I'd better get home. Ma's probably got a ton of family gossip."</p><p>"Yes, of course."</p><p>"So will Monday be good?"</p><p>For a split second, Fraser was totally blank. "Oh, the trip up north. Yes, I'm sure Monday would be fine. It shouldn't be a problem."</p><p>"Good, great." He paused uncertainly. "Good night, then."</p><p>"Good night, Ray."</p><p>The door shut and Fraser continued standing there, not at all like the stone Ray had accused him of being, more like a man who had been struck by lightning, every hair he possessed was bristling with excitement. As he calmed, a tear escaped from his tightly shut eyes and streaked down his cheek.</p><p>Dief nudged his hand and whined.</p><p>Fraser patted him absently, then noticed the overt affection and smiled down at him. "Have you forgiven me then?" Dief's tail thumped sweetly on the bare boards. "Thank you. Do you think he has?"</p><p>Dief didn't answer.</p><p>"No, you're right. I'm expecting too much. But he's trying, Dief. He's trying so hard."</p><p>Fraser undressed for bed, brushed his teeth in the sink, laid out his clothes for the next day, all with methodical precision, and all with his mind elsewhere. He shut off the lights and lay back on his narrow bed, arms crossed under his head, staring thoughtfully at the peeling paint on the ceiling.</p><p>"Dief, what do you call a man with a heart as big as the sun?"</p><p>The wolf gave a groan of exasperation.</p><p>Fraser raised his head. "You're right, it's more of a pun than a joke, and there's no blackness to it at all; just truth." He smiled and lay back. "Ray," he said softly. "His best friend calls him Ray."</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>